poemsfromthebottomofmyanxiousheart.blogspot.com

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart. Sunday, June 7, 2015. You can see right though that dress. A filmy peach like candle wax, but. Loose, but shiny, like a glazed donut. And everything behind the dress. As pale also with a gleam. I have had the dress a very long time. But have only worn it once. The occasion. Now forgotten because in that dress I am. Absorbed with me and with the dress. Distracted. By the feeling of being hidden but also. If I crossed my leg, you might have thought. So naked, so b...

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Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart | poemsfromthebottomofmyanxiousheart.blogspot.com Reviews

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Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart. Sunday, June 7, 2015. You can see right though that dress. A filmy peach like candle wax, but. Loose, but shiny, like a glazed donut. And everything behind the dress. As pale also with a gleam. I have had the dress a very long time. But have only worn it once. The occasion. Now forgotten because in that dress I am. Absorbed with me and with the dress. Distracted. By the feeling of being hidden but also. If I crossed my leg, you might have thought. So naked, so b...

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2 completely

3 being visible

4 but softly visible

5 pencilled in

6 everyday movements all

7 seemed grander

8 a crown

9 extraordinary

10 posted by

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Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart | poemsfromthebottomofmyanxiousheart.blogspot.com Reviews

https://poemsfromthebottomofmyanxiousheart.blogspot.com

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart. Sunday, June 7, 2015. You can see right though that dress. A filmy peach like candle wax, but. Loose, but shiny, like a glazed donut. And everything behind the dress. As pale also with a gleam. I have had the dress a very long time. But have only worn it once. The occasion. Now forgotten because in that dress I am. Absorbed with me and with the dress. Distracted. By the feeling of being hidden but also. If I crossed my leg, you might have thought. So naked, so b...

INTERNAL PAGES

poemsfromthebottomofmyanxiousheart.blogspot.com

1

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart: Stop, Cry

http://www.poemsfromthebottomofmyanxiousheart.blogspot.com/2012/04/crying.html

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart. Tuesday, April 24, 2012. Sometimes, not often,. I'd see my mother crying. In the middle of an afternoon,. Her knitting slumped in her lap,. Over no cause I knew of, till now,. Being her age then,. Though not having seen. As much as she who witnessed genocide first hand,. But having seen more than enough,. I stop pumping gas and cry for this world,. Which seems so hopelessly forsaken that. Somebody ought to cry for it. Somebody ought to stop shopping. There is a ...

2

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart

http://www.poemsfromthebottomofmyanxiousheart.blogspot.com/2015/06/you-can-see-right-though-that-dress.html

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart. Sunday, June 7, 2015. You can see right though that dress. A filmy peach like candle wax, but. Loose, but shiny, like a glazed donut. And everything behind the dress. As pale also with a gleam. I have had the dress a very long time. But have only worn it once. The occasion. Now forgotten because in that dress I am. Absorbed with me and with the dress. Distracted. By the feeling of being hidden but also. If I crossed my leg, you might have thought. Dont ask me ho...

3

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart: The Good Old Days

http://www.poemsfromthebottomofmyanxiousheart.blogspot.com/2012/06/good-old-days.html

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart. Saturday, June 23, 2012. The Good Old Days. A garage door rumbles up slowly. He must have seen me coming. In my navy blue pleated skirt. And white cotton blouse. Walking home from school. His pants drop to the floor,. He waves congenially at me,. My eyes follow his. I won’t tell my parents. About this old man. They’d not let me walk. But I know what. In South Bend, Indiana. A stranger in the park tried. To coax me to his car, my. Father's friend, a captain,.

4

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart: Forgiveness

http://www.poemsfromthebottomofmyanxiousheart.blogspot.com/2013/03/i-wont-visit-ward-where-shes-sitting.html

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart. Sunday, March 17, 2013. I won’t visit the ward where she’s sitting. Beside others who stab themselves in their necks. Is that icy tone mine on the phone? She didn’t want to die,. Only make her lover stay. Because I’m needy, mother! One of her serial assertions. Once upon a time she was a sunny child. Am I dreaming when I. See a little girl with a soft red heart. Flung open to everyone? She loved hearts, on her headbands,. On her socks, on her toothbrush,. I don&...

5

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart: I Was Weary, You Understand

http://www.poemsfromthebottomofmyanxiousheart.blogspot.com/2012/03/i-was-weary-you-understand.html

Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart. Monday, March 26, 2012. I Was Weary, You Understand. I know you must be crumbling. Like a day-old pan dulce. After all, this is your mother you’re looking at. Painted and powdered like an old diva. In a jeweled music box. You must be shocked looking down on. My hands, laced with black beads. Which you know I recited over and over. All through my last days. Afraid, yes, I was, but you know, son,. There wasn't much e. Lse I could do. I could not care for my orchids.

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Book Review: Binocular Vision, by Edith Pearlman; “Cautious words make the story convincing” | Every Man Jack …

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Poems from the bottom of my anxious heart

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